The Curls
by schmackie
Summary: Set during Prom-A-Saurus, 3x19. Klaine. Inspired by a post on tumblr (link in my profile). Just some fluff and cute stuff. Minor mentions of smut (m/m) Rated M to be safe. First Klaine fic, be gentle please.


Ficlet inspired by a post on tumblr. I put the link in my profile. Enjoy!

* * *

Kurt never got to slow dance a lot.

There was prom, of course, but that had gone so disastrously the year before. And there were weddings, but the last wedding he went to was his dad and Carole's (he was not counting Finn and Rachel's pathetic attempt at nuptials after Regionals) and he didn't have a boyfriend to slow dance with there. So this year's prom would've been the next chance he got until who knows when. But when he'd had _another_ dream about being crowned prom king and queen and getting eggs thrown at him by the whole school for dancing badly with himself and being forced to escape on Fluffy, the three-headed dog (he never said it was a rational dream), he just couldn't handle another year of humiliation.

So anti-prom with Rachel and Blaine was planned with Puck and Becky tagging along. Rachel and Blaine had paid for most of the hotel room and after taking two and a half hours to get dressed in his "creative black tie" ensemble for the evening, he was ready to not go to prom. Blaine texted him that he was on his way and Kurt smiled at the attached photo of three empty tubes of raspberry hair gel. Blaine was going to have an extra sturdy helmet tonight.

Not ten minutes later, Kurt's doorbell rang and the sight that greeted him as he walked down the stairs instantly brought him back one year to when nervous new boyfriend Blaine had come to pick him up for junior prom. Nervous hands shaking Burt's as Blaine called his father 'sir' only to be corrected _again_ that 'Burt' was suitable. Kurt smiled at the memory of his boyfriend and he finished his descent and slipped into the kitchen to grab the boutonniere he'd gotten for Blaine.

After pinning the boutonniere, anti-prom pictures, and goodbye's to Burt and Carole, Kurt and Blaine were on their way in the '59 Chevy Blaine and his dad had rebuilt.

"Are you sure you're not upset that you're missing your senior prom?" Blaine asked at a stop light.

"I am a little, but I can_not_ get voted prom queen again. I know I put on a brave face last year, but it was hu—"

"—miliating." Blaine finished, then pressed, "But it's still your last chance to –"

"Blaine, I have all summer to hang out with Mercedes and Tina and everyone. I have three months to say goodbye to them. One dinosaur themed night that is bound to be more traumatizing than fun will not ruin my senior year." Kurt finalized before leaning over and kissing his boyfriend on the cheek. "But thank you, the sentiment is sweet considering how much you hate Brittany's ban on hair gel."

"It's tyrannical, Kurt, and you know it. She's a terrorist. A hair terrorist. A hairrorist." Kurt giggled as his boyfriend pulled into the hotel parking lot continuing his rant about Brittany and bragging about the amount of the offending gel currently loaded onto his scalp.

* * *

Ok, so not going to prom hadn't worked out. But anti-prom was boring and he was not trying to lose in a game of strip poker with Becky so when Finn finally showed up and, after quickly looking to Blaine who had looked as relieved as he did, they were on their way to actual prom.

Last year's prom had been awkward. Fun, but awkward. Blaine was dapper as ever, but the two of them weren't comfortable enough with dancing while everyone was watching. Well, until Blaine had saved the day when Prom King Dave had run off during _Dancing Queen. _That was when Kurt realized he liked slow dancing, even if the whole school that had humiliated him had been watching and scrutinizing their every move. It was almost comeuppance for him. _Almost_.

So now here they were. Slow dancing again, Kurt's arms loosely draped around Blaine's shoulders and Blaine's arms wrapped around his waist.

"You know what, John Oates?" Kurt addressed his boyfriend.

"Hm?" Blaine ignored the reference to the poofy-haired half of the '80s duo.

"Your hair makes you inches taller." Kurt pointed out.

"Shut up." Blaine whined, tucking his head into Kurt's neck and tightening his grip on his boyfriend's waist.

"I'm only teasing. I think it's cute. And guess what else I can do, Kramer."

"What?" Blaine groaned.

Kurt started running his fingers through the curls at the nape of Blaine's neck. Kurt felt Blaine relax in his arms as he lightly ran his nails over Blaine's head through the thick mass of curls.

"I couldn't do this before, now could I?" Blaine chuckled and placed a kiss on his boyfriend's neck.

The danced in silence for a few minutes before Blaine asked, "You're sure that you're OK after going up there for the coronation? No post-traumatic stress disorder?"

Kurt laughed lightly at his boyfriend's protection. "Of course I'm fine. I'm at my senior prom looking fabulous with my amazing boyfriend, Don King."

"I look like Don King?" Blaine jumped back to arm's length asking worriedly.

"…Well…" Kurt implied, receiving a frantic look from Blaine, before correcting himself. "Kidding!" earning him wiggling fingers against his ticklish sides. A loud laugh escaped Kurt, earning him a glare from some girl in his English class and her date.

"No, but seriously, it's not _too_ bad right?" Blaine pressed after ceasing his tickle attack.

"No it's not _too_ bad." Kurt smiled and leaned down to rest his forehead against Blaine's.

They swayed a little longer, Blaine's arms wrapping tightly once again around Kurt's waist and Kurt resting his head on Blaine's shoulder and nuzzling his nose into his boyfriend's neck.

Kurt was glad he changed his mind.

* * *

The glee kids skipped out on the post prom run by the high school and all met at Rachel's house instead. They took control of the Oscar room and Puck broke into the liquor cabinet again, since Hiram and Leroy were in New York City for the weekend.

The party was in full swing, but Kurt and Blaine had opted out of drinking, since Blaine's dad would absolutely murder him if he didn't bring the antique car home in perfect condition and Kurt not wanting to leave Blaine as the only sober one.

Kurt and Blaine were lost dancing close together in their own little world because _Teenage Dream_ had come on. After pulling away before they could get too lost in each other's lips, they looked around to ensure no one had taken notice of their impromptu makeout session. They were surprised to see that almost everyone had stopped dancing and the crowd surrounding Finn and Puck seemed to be the cause. Cups glued to their mouths and excess dribbling down their chins, the entire glee club swarmed the two while chanting _Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! _Soon after, Puck crushed his cup in his hand as Finn sputtered and almost puked.

"Undefeated champion! You all suck!" Puck flaunted as the crowd dwindled. "Who else wants to take on Puckzilla? I'll take any and all challengers!" Puck scanned the crowd looking for a new opponent. "Anderson!" Puck pointed at the bushy-haired boy.

"Can't. Gotta get the car home safely." Blaine answered automatically, reciting the same line for the sixth time that night.

"Fine. Kurt, you're up."

"Nope. Puck, I'm not drinking tonight either. Why don't you ask M—"

"Aw, come on, Hummel, don't be such a girl." Puck taunted him.

Kurt's eyes narrowed. Kurt might have gotten along better with the glee girls, had an aptitude for fashion, and liked boys but that did _not_ mean he was a girl. Kurt was a _man_. More of a man than Puck, and with his newfound skill for deepthroating and the lacking presence of a gag reflex– he blushed at the thought—Kurt knew he could out-chug Puckasaurus Rex any damn day of the week.

Kurt pushed his way through the small crowd of New Direction's guys and some Treble Tone girls to the center of the circle, a wine cooler immediately placed in his outstretched hand. He palmed the cap and twisted it right off, tossing it over his shoulder, never breaking eye contact with his opponent. Puck got a refill and after 1...2…3… they tipped their drinks backward.

Kurt immediately opened his throat and let the sweet liquid cascade down, burning as it went. Chants of _Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!_ were heard only as background noise as he watched the meniscus of the wine cooler lower closer to his mouth until the bottle was drained. Kurt dramatically let the bottle drop to the floor and exited the circle of silent bystanders gazing in wonder, but not before seeing the chagrin on his opponent's face.

Kurt immediately found Blaine sitting on the couch, fully invested in a conversation with Brittany about how popping popcorn is just mass murder on the kernels. Feeling the buzz from the wine cooler being injected into his bloodstream so quickly, Kurt plopped down in his boyfriend's lap and wrapped his arms around his neck.

"The pops are their death cry." Brittany insisted as Blaine stared at her skeptically.

"Brittany! Come on let's dance!" Santana came over and pulled her girlfriend away from the couple.

Blaine wrapped an arm around Kurt's back and let the other stroke Kurt's thigh as Kurt began running him fingers through Blaine's gel-free curls.

"I've known her for a year and a half and I still don't get her." Blaine stared at nothing and shook his head incredulously.

"I would say you get used to it, but you don't—Ooh! Excuse me" Kurt responded with a blush, accidentally letting a little burp slip out, his alcohol-hazed state forcing him to forget proper etiquette. Blaine chuckled at him before letting his head press back into Kurt's fingers.

"I saw you won your chugging contest." Kurt nodded in affirmation. "I knew you would," Blaine continued before leaning in closer to whisper, "I am fully aware of the things you can do with your throat." Blaine smiled innocently up at him. Kurt looked down and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. When Kurt opened his eyes, he noticed Blaine staring at his lips. Kurt leaned down again for another kiss, feeling Blaine's lips move against his and his arms securing possessively around his waist. When they finally pulled away, Blaine placed his hand back on Kurt's thigh, but much higher up, and—_oh _, Kurt had felt Blaine's cock twitch underneath his leg.

Kurt didn't want to get too frisky in front of all their friends, especially with how adamant Santana and Puck were about learning as much as they could about his sex life with Blaine, so he sighed comfortably into his boyfriend's embrace, being sure to wiggle his butt in his boyfriend's lap because, hey, teasing is fun.

"Are you glad we went to prom?" Blaine wondered as they both witnessed the drunken shenanigans as bystanders.

"I am. It was fun." Kurt smiled down at Blaine and weaved his fingers into his curly locks again, "And I got to see the man behind the product. It was totally worth it."

Blaine turned to rest his head on Kurt's chest, still allowing Kurt's fingers to adventure in the forest of baby-fine curly shrubs. "You really don't think it looks that bad?"

"For the fiftieth time, Blaine, I like it. And I like being able to run my fingers through it." Kurt felt Blaine hum against his chest when his digits massaged harder into his head. "And I think you like it too."

Kurt smirked when Blaine squeezed his thigh reassuringly, silently thanking Kurt for accepting his horrid tangled mess of thin Medusa snakes. Blaine took Kurt's chin in his hand and pulled his face closer before whispering an _I love you_ on Kurt's lips. Kurt connected with Blaine in a sweet kiss, but the kiss turned heated quickly. After another swipe of Blaine's tongue along his, Kurt had to physically restrain his legs so they wouldn't straddle Blaine and rut against him into the couch. They both pulled away for air.

"Is your house free?" Kurt asked breathlessly.

"No my dad just got home from a business trip and my mom leaves for my aunt's tomorrow afternoon."

"Shit, and my dad and Carole are home, too." Kurt tried to think of another place they could go for the night, but it proved incredibly difficult with Blaine's fingers trailing closer and closer to his semi-hard dick.

They were both pulled out of the moment when Becky started yelling at Rachel, "I'm the _real_ Prom Queen! I'm the Queen of _Anti_-Prom!"

Kurt's and Blaine's head whipped toward each other with the same thought in their eyes.

_Anti-Prom._

Kurt was off and headed toward the stairs in a matter of heartbeats, with Blaine hot on his trail. When they had made it up into the kitchen and away from the loud music and boisterously drunk teenagers, Blaine pulled Kurt around and pressed him hungrily against the basement door, rattling the frame and letting the _Oscar Room_ sign clatter to the floor. Blaine kissed him _needy_ and _hungry_ and _hard_, pulling away only for air.

"Come on," Kurt said through sharp fast breaths, "There's an empty hotel room waiting for us."

Kurt pulled Blaine by the hand with a saucy wink, his thoughts only on his boyfriend and the fun they could have in an alone in a hotel room.

* * *

Kurt blinked awake to the warmth of sunlight on his face and exhales against the nape of his neck.

Last night had been perfect. But, who was he kidding, every night with Blaine was perfect. Blaine always knew when Kurt wanted it sweet and slow or when he needed it fast and raw or sometimes both in one night. But last night had been different—_good_ different, but different. It had been almost animalistic and ravishing.

Kurt ran through what could have gone differently in his head. His cock throbbed as he remembered feeling Blaine twitch in his mouth. And when it had been Blaine's turn to go down on him, Kurt's body shivered as if he could feel the ghost of Blaine's mouth on his cock and hand reaching around to stretch him open with fingers, wet with the mix of their own saliva and precum. It was so hot, Kurt remembered groaning and twisting his fingers through Blaine's hair, which has caused a low vibrating growl to rumble through Blaine's body—

_Oh right_. That had been new. He'd never made Blaine _growl_ before. The thought of cajoling such noises from his boyfriend's lips had Kurt's mind running with what else different could have happened last night.

Kurt remembered the three slick fingers sliding in and out teasing just whispering over that spot that he needed _rammed_. When Blaine had quit teasing with his fingers and finally buried all the way in covered in one of the condoms Becky had left in the room from anti-prom, Kurt's hands snaked from the backs of his shoulders up and tangling into his curls and pulling hard and the roll of Blaine's hips jutting just _deeper_ into him had Kurt practically shaking at the memory. Another growl had ruptured through Blaine's chest as Kurt's legs wrapped around him and aided his thrusts with willing hips and clawing hands through the curls.

Kurt was pulled out of his thoughts when the arm draped around his waist had tightened and before he knew it, he was on his back, Blaine hovering above him with a playful twinkle in his eye. Blaine leaned down for a sweet kiss, and another, and another before peppering Kurt's lips with dozens of quick little pecks. Kurt let a giggle escape as his arms wound around Blaine's neck and letting his fingers toy nimbly in the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Good morning." Kurt beamed at his boyfriend, not being able to peel the smile from his face even if he tried.

"Morning," Blaine answered with a sweet goofy grin gracing his own features.

"Sleep well, Garfunkle?" Kurt teased.

"Even your mean teasing about my hair can't dampen my mood." Blaine bent in for a kiss, "So _ha_."

A flutter of giggles escaped Kurt's lips before he pulled his boyfriend's lips back to his. Blaine situated himself more comfortably, straddling one of Kurt's thighs and letting his weight push his morning erection into Kurt's hip. Kurt groaned at the contact, tugging on Blaine's hair and—_oh._

There was that growl again and finally it dawned on Kurt what had caused that _rumbling sexy growl_. He gave another experimental tug in Blaine's curls, and the low reverberating growl repeated. Kurt smirked under the kiss.

Blaine hummed a quizzical noise through the kiss, Kurt pulled away with an answer, "You like when I play with your hair."

"I think I do." Blaine agreed, but Kurt wasn't satisfied so he pulled a knowing tug. "Ok, fine, I love it."

Kurt smiled up and his lips were barely brushing Blaine's when a swift knock and a loud "Housekeeping!"

"Come back later!" Blaine yelled back, not taking his eyes off of Kurt's.

"Ok, but checkout's in an hour!" The maid answered before walking to the next room.

"How many condoms did Becky leave in that bag?" Blaine asked with a smirk.

"Five." Kurt answered with a knowing smile but feigning innocence when he asked, "why?"

"How many did we use last night?" Blaine pressed, his smirk spreading to a cocky grin.

"Three." Kurt blushed as the memories filled his head again.

"Think we can use the last two in the next hour?"

Kurt answered by crashing their lips together and grasping hotly at fistfuls of thick curls, "Easily."

* * *

Blaine had pulled up to the curb in front of Kurt's house and leaned in to give his a kiss goodbye, the taste of coffee lingering on both their lips from their quick stop at the Lima Bean (quick because they didn't want their regular coffee people seeing them in their wrinkled clothes that they had to pick them up off the floor and wear again to take the walk of shame for _Prom: The Morning After_.)

"Do you want to stay for breakfast?" Kurt asked hopefully, "Carole always makes really good pancakes on Sundays."

"I would but I need to get the car back to my dad before he gets so pissed he never lets me drive it again." Blaine pressed in for another kiss.

"Wait I have an idea! Why don't you drop this car off and then bring your Prius back over here and we'll hang out, eat pancakes and have a lazy day in sweat pants, and watch Moulin Rouge?"

Blaine smiled, pressed, another kiss to his boyfriends lips, "Sounds perfect."

Blaine pulled back into the street and drove to his house. Kurt scooted across the booth-style seat and Blaine wrapped an arm around his shoulder as he casually drove back to his house with one hand.

Kurt decided he could get used to this. The comforting feeling of being in the arms of the one you love. Kurt realized he recognized the feeling from when he would slow dance with Blaine. Slow dancing, cuddling, spooning—whatever it was, he'll gladly take whatever he can get because right now Kurt is happy, and no one can ruin that.


End file.
